Archive for October, 2010

I’m sitting here in my big, comfortable, black leather poppa chair in my living room, and I must confess until I started writing this, I was sucking my thumb. I guess that’s a little like hanging on to my “Blue Blankie.” The key pad on my new Ipod is not kind to Louie-Louie Generation guys with thick thumbs. In fact Ipods are not kind to Louie-Louie Generation guys period. And it’s not just because you could call me “Old Clumsy Thumbs.”

Ipods are also kind of a brain drain. Remember when companies gave you an instruction book when you bought something that was more complicated to use than just plug it in the wall, and turn the knob? The Ipod comes with a little tiny three page foldover instead. It says go to our website on the internet, and download the simple instructions. The simple instructions are 342 pages long. That’s not simple instructions.

I know simple. I am a simple guy, and that has gotten me along ok so far. Four pages are simple. Ten pages…maybe…342 pages is not simple. I like simple. When I was in the Boy Scouts I went camping one night, and my bunkmate was a guy who eventually grew up to design rockets. As in a rocket scientist. Eddie was not simple. I was simple. It takes both kinds of guys to make it in life. I woke up in the middle of the night, and I looked up at thousands…millions of stars. I reached over and woke Eddie up and asked him, “What do you see?” He said I see stars…probably ten to the tenth power of them.” I said, “What does that tell you?” He said, “Meteorologically speaking, we’ll probably have a nice day tomorrow. What does it tell you ?” I said, “It tells me somebody stole our tent.” I am a simple guy. Simple is good.

Big Louie, his own bad self, the Chief Mustard Cutter of the Louie-Louie Generation says, “Keeping stuff simple isn’t stupid.” And that got me to thinking that it’s been a while since I told you in so many simple words why I do these podcasts and blogs. It sure isn’t for the money. Actually the, “So many words,” are only three words…and they’re simple. Connection, Company, and a Kick in the pants.

Here’s what I mean: Lots of people helped me get though lots of nights for lots of years while I was on the air. And I hope that worked the other way around too. I really don’t want to lose connection with those people. They were important to me then, and they’ll always be important to me as long as there are nights to get through. That’s the main reason I call the podcasts, Good Night. Nights can be tough. That’s the Connection part.

But now, lots of people are new to my huddle. I like that too. That’s the company part. When I was on the air, I never thought about listeners as an audience. I thought about you as a huddle. As in a football huddle. A bunch of us gathered around each other for protection and to help each other get to the goal…which was getting through to the dawn. So new folks are very welcome. Nights can be lonely. I’m not so conceited that I think just a few minutes of conversation on this podcast, or a few sentences in the blog, or even the sound of the personal audio cds is a complete substitute for a real life flesh and blood buddy in the wee small hours…but hey…it is a genuine human interaction… and it’s company…and something is better than nothing.

The kick in the butt part works like this. I’ve noticed too many of my friends have limp Louie-Louie limbic systems. Your limbic system is the part of your brain that puts the SSS in your sexy. It lights up, when a guy walks into a room, and a woman’s eyebrows twitch, and HE NOTICES THAT. Pimple People don’t notice things like that. Louie-Louie ladies and gents… should.

It’s easy to let your limbic system go limp when times get tough…when some of us have to join groups like “Parents Without Paychecks.” Some days it seems like it’s all we can do to just keep up with the losers. Once you moved like the Fonz at a disco. Now you move as little as possible, and you dance a little like the pope probably dances. Getting knocked down, and getting up again, and getting knocked down again, and getting up again…eventually tires out your knees. That’s the reason for the kick in the butt.

Sometimes a kick in the butt produces a step in the right direction. Maybe you don’t need it. Maybe you do. Here’s a test. When you hear yourself saying things like, “Don’t tell ME to have a nice day…”it’s time to remember what Big Louie always says: “Of course the world sucks. And that’s good. If it didn’t we’d all fall off.”

2- What does Lady Wonder Wench do that causes discrepencies in heart rhythms.

3- What’s even lower than Washington, D.C.

Dick’s Details. They take your mind off your mind.

There’s a story in the brand new Night Connections 3 personal audio cd about a Louie-Louie lady who found a very graceful way to get up…after getting knocked down pretty hard. It’s called “Neighbors.”

A ladylike smile from that Louie-Louie Lady…was the start…of healing a black and blue heart. The lady has class. It takes a while to learn that I think. Class. Eventually…maybe, the pimple person and his blonde will learn about…class. Maybe.

If you like “Neighbors,” you can just keep the current podcast. Or if you want a fresh copy, just download it from the Night Connections 3 icon on the home page.

I’ve been telling you about the Louie-Louie Generation…sexy, active people who remember that song fondly. People with tude. Attitude. And I’ve told you about the Pimple People…like that guy with the blonde. He probably wore his baseball hat sideways… and surfed the internet on his Ipod, even while his blonde was polishing her piercings with some of his bodily parts. And of course there are the Dreadful Drones…kind of virtual people who have totally forgotten how to really have a nice day.

It really does take all kinds of us to make things work I guess. It’s kind of funny, and almost weird sometimes. My buddy Eddie grew up to make rockets. I got to work at NBC Radio, which is in Manhattan, right across the street from where they call the dancers Rocketts.

Listen…I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I have a little envy for the fact that the Pimple People’s fingers aren’t as clumsy as mine… and they can make sense of the 342 page instruction book on the internet.

Sometimes you want to squeeze the Pimple People out of your life, but I guess Big Louie is right again, when he says…”You’ve got to look at life, one person at a time.”

I like looking at my Lady Wonder Wench. Because when she looks back, I don’t see the reflection of some Ol Clumsy Thumbs guy with a major brain drain. I see her Louie-Louie lover. Me. And that Lady Wonder Wench smile, always seems like it’s saying… “hey hunk…why don’t you come here and let me limber up your limbics.”

A torrent of mail has come in about the Mistress blog and podcast. Thank you.

Here’s an outstanding example from a proud podcast participant who asked to remain anonymous:

She had a wonderful lover. She had just split up with her first husband and needed a friend. She doesn’t exactly remember how they got together. She thinks it was one day when she was shopping at the car parts store where he worked with one of her former co-workers, who dared him to take her out. He took the dare, and took her out to dinner. That was the beginning of their relationship. There were many years between them. He had a daughter who was about her age, at the time. She says that one day he admitted that he had a deep, emotional feeling for her. She admitted the same, and they became lovers that day. This lasted for about 5 years. He’d spend lunchtimes with her. They’d go on jaunts to the ski lodge or the beach for the day (once for a weekend), take walks through the woods, and they would make warm, gentle love. He’d listen to her, talk with her, simply hold her when she needed it, and just be there. He even went to visit her and stay over a few times when she moved 50 miles away to further her education.

During the time they were together as lovers, she wrote pages and pages of poetry — some of her best. They talked about being together, about what it would mean if she got pregnant and had his child, and what that type of future could mean to both of them, and his family. He out and out told her that he could never leave his wife for anyone, and it hurt her deeply at the time. But still, they stayed lovers for several years.

Eventually she met someone special, and remarried. She confided that now that she’s been with her current husband for almost 25 years, she can see what he meant about not being willing to leave his wife .

Though their days as lovers were over, they still loved each other. He retired, and he and his family moved to Florida. He became afflicted with Emphysema and could no longer take walks when he came north to visit friends and family — and her. One day she got a phone call from his eldest daughter. ” “Bryan” passed away yesterday.” She stopped breathing and her heart skipped a beat. “He went out to his workshop in the morning just like he always did. When Mom called him in for lunch, he didn’t come in. She went to get him and found him slumped over his workbench, dead. We thought we should call you and let you know, seeing as you were friends.” She thanked the daughter and told her how very sorry she was about his death. She also said she hoped his wife – their mother – would be OK. She was broken inside, nonetheless. She sent a sympathy card and a VERY truthful letter about their real relationship, and thanked the wife for sharing him when she needed a friend. She never heard from the family again.

She told me she can thank Bryan for a lot of things — being there when she needed someone, showing her that someone cared and helping her feel that she was important and valuable, being a friend as well as a lover, and for not lying to her just to make her feel better, but being truthful so that it gave her something to think about……… and those reams of heartfelt poetry. She said, “Sometimes I wish I could talk with him again, and get his advice or opinion on something. Sometimes I could just use one of his hugs. I feel all the richer for having known him and having been his mistress.”

I’m sitting here in my big, comfortable, black leather poppa chair in my living room…and I think it’s coming clean time. I told you before that I think every life should have a purpose. Mine included. Some people make a big mark on life. I’ll be content with making a small smudge. You should know that this podcast and blog has a lot to do with that.

Big Louie, his own bad self, the Chief Mustard Cutter of the Louie-Louie generation always says “Monkeys gibber, lions roar, and people preach.” I like to leave the preaching to the pious guys. I always figured the word pious means full of pie. But I don’t think just telling you about some of the “been there, done thats” in my life is preaching. And that’s where these podcasts and blogs come in.

Let me put this into perspective. I’ll never step out of a space ship on the moon, but I fly my small plane, sometimes a couple of times a week. I’ll never win a triathlon, but I make finger marks on my carpet every day doing my pushups. And I’ll never have another national network radio audience again, but this podcast and blog go out every week to my “Huddle,” you and a small group of other people who seem to really care. People who understand that following the Louie-Louie Generation ‘tude takes guts.

Here’s a better example: My Lady Wonder Wench had an awful accident a couple of years ago. When she came home from the hospital, you could see her bobby pins were still on the bathroom sink, her jewelry box was still on the dresser, there was still a trace of her perfume in her closet, but for months…she was gone…into the fear and the pain caused by a steel contraption known as a halo that the doctors attached to her head.

When it came off, it took more than a little guts for Lady Wonder Wench to face the world again…literally. She did it a little at a time. Just looking out the window first. Then stepping out on the porch…then around the drive way. I was so proud watching her…and holding her hand. A little at a time she changed back from a helpless patient, into the beautiful, laughing, loving, full of life woman who fogs my glasses and makes my eyebrows wiggle.

One of the fascinating stories that came from that wonderful rescue of the miners in Chile, was that some of them had mistresses. The media didn’t talk about them much. That would have caused problems. Mistresses are a little like Stepmothers. They don’t get much respect. And that’s bizarre, because they sometimes become Stepmothers. Not usually. But sometimes.

So…think about the chance a woman takes when she becomes a mistress…just because she loves a man. I’m not talking about mistress-ing for money. I mean mistress-ing for love. I don’t mean a woman who likes to romp with a regiment. I mean a mistress who puts her youth, her reputation, and her beauty at risk, just because she loves one man. She knows going in that a mistress usually loses everything. Everything…but something only she can understand.

There’s a story about a mistress who was in for a terrible night in the new Night Connections 3 personal audio cd. It’s called, “The End Of Time.”

A car ride like the one in the story hurts. It hurts the man terribly, and I can’t imagine what it does to the woman. Actually it must cause terrible pain for both of the women involved…the mistress, and the wife.

The End Of Time.” is from the brand new Night Connections 3 personal audio cd. If you like it, you can just keep the current podcast. Or if you want a fresh copy, just download it from the Night Connections 3 icon on the home page.

I’ll never step on the moon. I’ll never win a triathlon. My big audience network radio days are behind me. I’ll never make a big mark on life. But I think I can make a small smudge. In one of my lovin touch books, I said, “Look at life one person at a time.” I think Big Louie would approve of that statement. It’s got Louie-Louie Generation ‘Tude. And it takes guts because it bucks the system. So help me make a small smudge on life here. The next time you hear about a mistress, take a good, hard look at the lives involved.

Lady Wonder Wench has been involved with horses all her life. She knows a couple of wives who stay with their husbands simply because they want to keep their fancy horses. I know one of those guys, and he’s admitted to me that he has a mistress. You know couples like this. He doesn’t give her money, or jewelry, or fancy stuff. She doesn’t want it anyway. There’s nothing that money can buy between them. Just…love. I think she deserves respect. I’m not sure I’d say the same for the wife involved.

Look at life one person at a time. The wife involved in that Night Connections story could have been a good and beautiful, and caring woman. In fact, she was. There’s no excuse for cheating someone like that. There’s no excuse for cheating…period. But sometimes there’s a reason. And occasionally there’s no reason, but it seems like there’s also no choice. The pious guys roll their eyes to heaven when I say that. I think they don’t deserve their pie when they do. Because wasn’t it the Guy they’re looking up at in heaven who once said, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone?”

If I can avoid gibbering, roaring, and preaching, and just tell you some of the been theres done that’s in my life, maybe I’ll make my little smudge. I will, if you remember that it’s a good idea to look at life one person at a time. Like the miner’s mistresses in Chile. Or the lady involved with my wife’s horsey friend’s husband.

So it’s time to come clean. I was the guy in that car one night, a long time ago, on my way to stop cheating on a very good woman. On my way to say goodbye to another woman I tried to stop loving. And couldn’t. You, and the other members of my Good Night huddle know that other woman…my mistress at the time…my Lady Wonder Wench.

I’m sitting here in my big, comfortable, black leather poppa chair in my living room, catching my breath. Sometimes it takes more time for us Louie-Louie generation guys to recover, than it did to tire us out. I just finished putting my fingerprints on the carpet… We have a nice soft blue carpet in the living room, and that’s where I do my daily pushups. My Lady Wonder Wench checks the carpet before we go to bed to be sure I didn’t forget to huff, puff, and groan my way to physical excellence. She doesn’t want old age to creak up on me, because she has a lovely excess of estrogen, and neither one of us wants it to go to waste.

My Lady Wonder Wench is the very model of a Lovin’ Louie-Louie Lady. She had a very sheltered childhood. She was 18 before her parents let her have a full length mirror. I un-sheltered her as quickly as I could just a few years later. And now her limbic system lights up quite nicely, and if all goes well, it lights up every nightly. In case you slept through the limbic system class in biology, that’s the part of your brain that puts the sizzle in your sexy. Lady Wonder Wench knows at least 5 ways to keep me wide awake without using coffee.

Big Louie, his own bad self, is the Chief Mustard Cutter of the Louie-Louie Generation. The Louie-Louie generation is for people who have been around long enough to get knocked down and picked yourself up more that a few times. But it’s mostly about passionate people.

We’ve been around long enough to know that we caught hell for everything we’ve ever done that’s worth doing. We remember to make time for music, magic and making merry, because we know that if we don’t, we’ll run out of fuel before the trip is over. And we know that a journey is called a trip, because we’re going to fall down when we least expect it. And when people are laughing at us, we laugh along with them…because laughing feels good, and why should everybody else have all the fun.

That’s why Louie-Louie Lads are the bedmates of choice for porn stars, supermodels, and Catherine Zeta Jones look alikes. We love lustily, care carefully, and some of us have paid off our nice cars and private airplanes. And Louie-Louie Ladies are loyal, they love and they laugh, and they know how to cook…in every meaning of the word.

I’ve told you about the Pimple People…a bunch of clueless, careless, callow kids. They have a level of sophistication just slightly below that of a good high school food fight. It sometimes seems that no matter how cynical you become about them, you can’t keep up. But sometimes, with maximum effort, a dose of coaching from an actual human and a little luck, some of them may ripen into Louie-Louie Lads and ladies.

But there is another group that’s as close to useless as a BB gun when a rhino is charging you. And that’s the Dreadful Drone Dorks. They are virtual people. They’re not kids…they’ve done the time but missed the ‘tude. They just never latched on to Louie-Louie hood. During evolution, their ancestors were in the control group.

A Dreadful Drone Dork Dude, walks a couple of steps ahead of his Dreadful Drone Dork Dude-ett…and he forgets that a dude should hold his dude-tte’s hand, open the door for her, and talk to her every once in a while. He still chooses his breakfast cereal by what kind of toy is in the box. His idea of excitement is when the tv networks start their new fall season shows. His biggest ambition is becoming a tax accountant who has a loophole named after him.

A Dreadful Drone Dork Dude-ttes thinks, “don’t ask, don’t tell” is a concept that applies to flatulating in a crowded elevator. Her professional ambitions are limited to becoming the secretary who has the desk nearest the copy machine. She’s amazed to find that Polident isn’t a beaten up parrot. If the Dreadful Drone Dorks were truly alive they’d be very sick people.

So we have Louie-Louie Ladies and Lads, Pimple People, and Dreadful, Drone, Dorks. But sometimes you have a chance to catch a person moving from one category to another. There’s a story about that in the brand new Night Connections 3 personal audio Cd. It’s called, “Growing Up Fast.”

She was scared, and happy, and amazed…looking at him…and he was scared and he was happy, and he was amazing himself…with the feeling of strength…that comes from all of a sudden… becoming a man. I think whatever they decide to do…they’ll do it together.

That story is in the current podcast. If you like it, you can just keep the podcast. Or if you want a fresh copy, just download it from the Night Connections 3 icon on the home page.

Looks like I’ve about recovered from pushing Mr. Floor away and leaving fingerprints on the carpet. It’s a distressing fact that I can still paint the town red, but I’ve got to rest a bit before I apply the second coat. And so, having rested a bit…I think it’s time to go and do my part to see to it that my Lady Wonder Wench’s excess estrogen doesn’t go to waste.

I’m sitting here in my big, comfortable, black leather poppa chair, after a really tough day. Just popped the shoes. Don’t know if I should put these socks in the laundry, or set fire to them. The way they smell may set off the fire alarm without any help from a match. I’m really looking forward to taking a nice, hot, shower in a few minutes. Tough day. But a good day. I got stuff done. Getting things done feels good. It makes you feel like you’re in control. There’s not a lot of that in control feeling around these days.

You get out on the road and people are driving at speeds ranging from sonic boom to car wash…and all you want to do is get to work. You’ve got to be cunning to survive. Of course, Big Louie, his own bad self, the Chief Mustard Cutter of the Louie-Louie Generation has been around long enough to give us advice on surviving in today’s traffic. For example, Louie says, “Never pass a driver who’s on a cell phone. Wait till he creams the truck ahead of him, then pass briskly on whichever side has less debris.” Most of our lives seem like they’re out of our control. It started for me when dad took my comic books, because mom said I was spending too much time checking out Wonder Woman.

When I started dating, my first potential co-necker fell asleep in the back seat of the car. Just as well I guess…we’d probably have gotten our braces locked together. I drove in to a Mac Donald’s for a cup of coffee the other day, and the lid of the coffee cup said something to the effect of, “For God’s sake don’t spill this stuff on your lap any where near a zip code that might contain a lawyer.” It’s my coffee. I should be able to spill it anywhere I like.

Life is out of our control. That’s where we get burnout. And I’m not kidding about that. Working hard doesn’t burn you out. Burn out isn’t in your muscles. It’s in your head. And we’re passing it on to our kids. And we should stop that. “Eat every pea on your plate or no desert.” “Bang that glass one more time and I’ll sell you.” “No singing at the table.” “Shut your mouth and eat.”

I could never figure out why are there lots of perfectly good drinking songs, but no eating dinner songs ? Singing would take your mind off the fact that peas will kill you.

The original designer of genes didn’t plan things this way. He made guys like Tarzan. Tarzan could, and did, sing and holler all he wanted when he ate. He never ate peas. Only lions. And not only did he get desert, Jane served it to him.

Where did we go wrong ? If some guy tried to stop some other guy from singing around the ol’ cave camp fire, pow!…he got a fast face full of fossil fist. If some nasty Neanderthal tried to make a cave lady eat peas, she just said buzz off buster and come back when you’ve evolved a little further.

Now…if an unexpected visitor wearing a mask climbs into your bedroom window at 3AM you don’t call a cop. You call your lawyer. And do you know what your lawyer will say ? “Don’t hurt him. He’ll sue. Give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he’s lost. Discuss his disadvantaged youth with him. If he’s bouncing something that looks suspiciously like a policeman rolled up into a ball, encourage him to join the other youths at the playground for a game of basketball. Tell him he looks like the Lone Ranger in that mask. Say, ‘Have a nice day.”

Not only are we not allowed to sing at the table, we’re not even allowed to peek under that guy’s mask.

1- What do giraffes have in common with many of today’s Rap artists? 2- Why didn’t the astronauts carry matches to the moon ? 3- When you walk into a restaurant in New Mexico, and they say, “Smoking or non smoking,” what are they talking about

Dick’s Details. They take your mind off your mind.

Our lives are out of control. You show up for work, and your boss says, “Don’t bother taking your coat off.” Or maybe you ARE the boss, and as you pull into the parking lot at work, you notice that the Sixty Minutes news team is set up there waiting for you. Or maybe your car horn gets stuck, and you’re following a large group of Hells Angels on the highway. That’s what causes burnout. When we don’t feel like we’re in control. And lots of times that’s our own fault. There’s a story about a woman who all of a sudden realizes that…and decides to do something about it…in the brand new Night Connections 3 personal audio cd. It’s called, “Bad Hands.” It’s in the current podcast.

I’ve had a lot of reaction to her story. Even from members of our group…the Louie-Louie Generation. Some of you told me you feel…far away from everywhere…and anyone. That’s a life out of control. One woman who heard that story said, “The thing that hurts the worst is that I don’t even hurt any more.” I told her, “Your hurt is like that cup of coffee. It’s your hurt. You paid for it. You have a right to feel it…if you want. I don’t know if that helped or not.

If you like “Bad Hands,” you can just keep the current podcast. Or if you want a fresh copy, you can download it from the Night Connections 3 icon on the home page.

I was kidding with you a little about burn out. But it’s really no joke. I know a little about it. Burnout feels like it sounds. Like there’s a patch of slick ice, and you’re a giant tire spinning and smoking, and skidding around…slamming into things…getting hurt. You’re out of control.

My Lady Wonder Wench put my burn out…out…a long time ago. She just said, “Do whatever you want to do. You can do it.” And she meant it. And now what I MOST want to do is to take that long, hot shower…with her. It’s my shower. I should be able to take it any way I want. Right ?

It’s pretty obvious from the look on my Lady Wonder Wench’s face, that I’d better be careful with this list of 20 things a man should never say to a woman. She’s sitting on the couch across from me. She is tall, elegant, intelligent, poised, supple, soft eyed, and smiling. But I know from experience that a smile is often full of teeth. So I’ve got to be careful with this. But I also have to be a team player. I promised. So I’ve got to give you this list of things a guy should never say to a woman.

Team work is important to guys. Team work. We help each other. We often even put aside our differences to help each other win the most important challenge we all face…which is convincing Louie-Louie Ladies that we lust lovingly, care completely, and protect passionately. Especially that first part. We cooperate with each other when we can. Of course, sometimes we can’t. It’s trickey. There are limits to team work. Mostly those limits have to do with ladies. We’ve learned that from history.

We’ve learned for example about two famous pre-Louie-Louie Generation guys…one from Sparta and the other from Troy. They got into this huge fight over a pre-Louie-Louie Lady named Helen. Helen must have been hot. It’s said she had a face that launched a thousand ships…so you can imagine what the rest of her must have looked like. So these two guys and their buddies really went at it…whacking away at each-other. But it seems that nothing could stop the powerful Spartan navy. And pretty soon, what seemed like millions of little Spartan seamen burst through the Trojan defenses…and well…you’ve lived… you know the kind of trouble that can develop from that.

So I feel honor bound to cooperate with my fellow Louie-Louie Lads to the fullest extent possible. That means all the way up to, but not including, introducing you to my Lady Wonder Wench. And whatever the personal cost…I’m going to tell you the 20 things Big Louie, his own bad self…the chief mustard cutter of the Louie-Louie generation says a man shouldn’t say to a woman. So here we go. And Lady Wonder Wench have mercy. I have to do this for my fellow Louie-Louie Lads.

Number 20- Don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal. Right. But it’s hard not to say that, because they worry about all kinds of things. Are you using the right salad fork. Is that sound your socks scrunching. We’re going to be late…for the ballet. Ok. Ok. Number 19…I’m sorry, now let’s just forget it. Comon…unless you’ve shouted the wrong name in a moment of passion…how long should you have to beg, plead and wheedle for forgiveness. But they’re not going to buy it. Number 18…And to think I was really trying to pick up your friend. No matter how warm and fuzzy you’re feeling, lying there by the fireplace…or wherever…if you say anything like that, you are DOOMED. There is no hope.Number 17…If you’re not happy, there’s nothing I can do about it. That’s dumb too. Because if YOU can’t do anything about it, some other guy will. Number 16…Don’t be ridiculous, of course I love you. Never go there guys. Never. If she’s worried you may not love her, you’re making her feel weak instead of strong. And that makes you a jerk. Number 15…My God will you get to the point. My Lady Wonder Wench put that one away for me when we were first going out. She said, “I only talk too much when I’m happy.” What was I supposed to say…”Don’t be happy ?” Number 14…From now on I’ll handle everything. Nooooo. From now on, after saying that, you’ll handle nothing. Number 13…What do you mean I don’t listen. I can tell you everything you just said. It’s not a pop quiz guys. She doesn’t mean you didn’t hear her. She meant you didn’t listen to her. Big difference. Number 12…Your friend Mary is really built. That kind of comment is what causes women to alter guys anatomy with scissors. Number 11…Don’t talk about it, just do it. Guys…talking about it is part of how women get things done. In fact, sometimes if they talk about it enough, we do it for them. Number 10…Be glad I remembered to put the toilet seat up. That makes sense only till the first time you sit down by mistake while the seat is up. It’s not a great experience. Number 9…”Why can’t I ? Your cousin always let’s me do that.” You have now finished yourself with both your girl and her cousin. And any other female within a fifty mile radius of your zip code. Number 8…”You’re a typical woman.” There is no such thing as a typical woman. There are typical men. But no typical women. And if you don’t know that, you have no hope for reproduction. Number 7…”You’re just like your mother.” That’s just a low blow…for both women. And you only get one blow that low per relationship. Number 6…”How old are you.” The only exception to the don’t say how old are you rule is when you’re a little concerned that she may be under 18. Number 5…”I’ll call you.” Either don’t say it…just do it…or just don’t say it. Number 4…”I don’t want to talk about it.” Now that’s just dumb. And you are about to experience one of the most awful forces of mother nature…the silent treatment. Number 3…”I’m busy.” She is the most important part of your busy…or she should be. Number 2…”I know exactly how to get where we’re going.” Whoops. One wrong turn guys, and you get to star in your own personal head on collision with a diesel powered “I Told You So.” And here it is. The number one stupidest thing a man should never say to a woman. This is un-necessary. No Louie-Louie Generation Lad would ever say a thing like this…would they ? I guess maybe so. So here it is…Any positive statement that ends with the word but. As in “I love you…but.” That’s not to be confused with the similar sounding, but totally different statement…”I love your butt.” Under some circumstances that one’s ok.

2- What kind of calves are slightly larger today than they were 35 years ago. And why should you care ?

3- What’s the real biggest difference between a good race horse and a great race horse ?

Dick’s Details. They take your mind off your mind.

One of the most difficult lessons a Louie-Louie Lad must learn is when to compete, and when to cooperate. Louie-Louie Ladies know that better than we do. Sometimes we get involved in fights even though we know we can’t win. Because we’re guys. So we lose. Then we want to take revenge. But nobody takes revenge like a woman. There’s a story about that in the brand new Night Connections 3 personal audio cd. It’s called, Revenge.

The lady involved was so quiet when she sprang the trap. So hurt. Actually crushed. But at the same time so powerful…and in control. Women know how to do things like that better than we do. If you like “Revenge” you can just keep the current podcast. Or if you want a fresh copy, just go back to the home page and download it from the Night Connections 3 icon.

You can almost hear the sound of clenched teeth when you just say the word revenge. And you can’t clench your teeth without smiling. Go ahead…try it. And my Lady Wonder Wench…tall, elegant, intelligent, poised, supple and soft eyed is still smiling at me from across the room on the couch. But she hasn’t said a word. A great silence has fallen. And she told me a long time ago that she talks too much when she’s happy. I think I may have hit the nail right on my thumb again with that list. Guys…it looks like I am about to take one for the team.